


Appetite

by Jaeird04



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Mentioned Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, Multi, Producer Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 12:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13681884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeird04/pseuds/Jaeird04
Summary: You watch the man you love most fill to the brim with zeal, your soul craving the excitement and energy he gives off when he does what he loves most.





	Appetite

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to do this! I hope it is good enough, I couldn't just leave this idea behind. I hope you enjoy!

Your heavy breaths filled the air, sweat clinging to your bodies. You stared at each other with half lidded eyes. He didn't look at you with lust, nor exhaustion. No, he was looking at you with pure, raw, radiant affection.

His gaze was warm, his whole being and aura wrapping around you, taking you in without even touching you, making you forget your current uncomfortable, sticky situation. His mouth was parted, his breaths still trying to catch up with him. His brown eyes were alight, almost so bright you could've used it as a light source in the dark room. You scooted closer, your eyelids falling all the way down, your sweat and love mingling to create a blissful feeling that you were sure you would never forget. As he wrapped his arms around you, you forgot every insecurity, every stress, every angry or sad feeling, all you knew, in that moment, was that you had Jihoon. It made the moths dance sparratically in your stomach, attracted to the light in your heart.

As you both quietly came down from your highs, you smiled into his bare chest, stroking his bicep. You could almost feel him smiling too. You could perfectly imagine it, the smile lines oh so obvious around his mouth, the apples of his cheeks lifting to meet his eyes, forming perfect half moons as his lips slightly parted into a handsome, almost catlike grin. You could never get that image out of your head, even if you tried. You just adored it too much.

As his thumb stroked your shoulder softly, he nestled his nose further into your hair, and you thought that you would never feel more at peace, more content than you ever were at that moment.

It didn't take you long to doze off in his arms, so exhausted by the marathon that you feel like you run everytime the man pulls you in with his eyes. You didn't dream of anything, a grey static meeting your consciousness.

You were so accustomed to his warmth, that usually you would be able to immediately sense when it was taken away from you.

So as Jihoon got up, you almost whined out loud and reached out from the loss of contact, the cold instantly causing you to shiver. You decided against it though, curious on what he was up to, so you let him be. It was still dark out, moonlight seeping through the windows, and hitting his shirtless torso in the most delectable way. He put his briefs and grey sweatpants back on, and shuffled out of the room in a almost exhausted but determined trance.

You stood still, eyes wide open, staring at the window, stretching your ears for any noises throughout your apartment. You heard none. It took a while, your eyes finally starting to close once again, before you heard the sound of a chord being played on the piano he owned. 

You could barely hear it, but there he was, playing with the chords. D flat major, G flat major, B flat minor. You knew these were the beginnings of one of your favorite pieces he's ever learned, since he played it with so much emotion. He once turned to you and whispered, as if it were a secret, only between the two of you. Or as if he were too vunerable, that any volume above a murmur would break him in that moment. He looked at you, his eyes brimming with ardor as he explained. 

"There is just so many different stories that could be told through this piece. So I try to think of a new one everytime." He sighed, placing his pointer finger on the C key, pressing it. "With each note, it escalates, and with each difference in chord, it only becomes more and more complex." He smiled, a closed lipped smile. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

Your breath was taken away from you. 

So now, hearing him start to play Clair De Lune by Debussey, you couldn't help but wonder what story he was thinking of now. 

Not being able to stay still, you slowly got out of bed, putting on your bottoms and top, and swayed towards the door as you heard him start. It sounded faint, like he was scared of pressing too hard. You could imagine his fingers lightly bouncing off the keys, a form of art that looked so beautiful on him. 

As he continued, you closed your eyes and proceeded to sway side to side, your fingers touching the wall in an attempt to guide yourself through the dark.

As you went further and further down the hall, you could almost feel him start to crescendo with each note, a rainfall of different keys and melodies coming into play, overlapping eachother in a delicious, gorgeous manner. You hummed along, finally finding the entrance to the room. Leaning onto the doorway, your eyes found his still naked shoulders, his back flexing in concentration as his arms moved at different paces. You watched his head move in time, his biceps tense. His hands arched as he met the highest volume, the intensity of the song reaching its peak, when it suddenly decrescendos, and he lightly taps the next key, melting away from the fierce climax.

Shoulders relaxing, his fingers started to move over the next chord slowly, and then quickly, and then slowly again, his body reacting to the difference in sounds and speeds. He looked so into his own world, into one of the many stories he's made up on the fly in his head. You've listened to every single one of them, in awe by him and his zeal. How his eyes were filled with a brown fire, his brows furrowing in the cutest way as he tries to explain yet another tale of his, hands motioning in the air as the words came out one by one. You took in all of it, every single time. 

He wasnt necessarily a quiet person, just someone who kept to himself. Yet whenever it came to music, his whole being would light up. It was like you could see the pulsing energy surrounding him if you narrowed your eyes enough. He would dance to, hum, sing, or play the music until it was a part of him.

You saw music as his life support, as something that kept his heart beating, his blood flowing.

As the song neared it's silent end, he softly decrescendoed, and leaned back in his seat. His forehead tilted up the slightest, a euphoric look on his face. His eyes were again half lidded, his lips were set a thin line, and as he played the last, deep note, you closed your eyes and let it vibrate through you. You stood straight, not moving from your place as you just watched his fingers stay where they were, as if he were frozen.

And then suddenly, he looked towards you. Perspiration gently covered his shoulders, and he shined even more than he did before in the moonlight. Smiling again, his hands finally moved as he got up from his seat. It almost looked like his body hesitated from leaving the instrument, his steps starting slow before they began their normal pace towards you.

Standing close to you, almost a breath away, you sucked in the air in your lungs. When you let out the breath, it ruffled his hair delicately. Grinning, you asked, "What was your story this time?" 

His eyes twitched between yours, a smirk steadily reaching his face.

"It was about you." 

You couldn't help but snort at his cheesiness, a blush creeping up your cheeks, but soon enough, you were smiling from ear to ear, hugging him and hoping to never forget this moment.


End file.
